


What You Do To Me

by synvamp



Series: Fair Game Week 2020 [5]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Angst, Clover always knows what to say, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Relapsing, Snarky Qrow be wild, Swear!Qrow, happy end, tw: alcoholism, tw: relapse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:00:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23226727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/synvamp/pseuds/synvamp
Summary: Qrow has a fight with Jimmy and goes back to his old ways… but this time there is a hand held out to lift him up and warm arms to hide in until the pain finally fades.Addiction, relapse, truth… and hope. A ballad in two parts.Trying something new for Fair Game Week 2020: Day 5 - Hurt / Comfort.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Series: Fair Game Week 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1839724
Comments: 10
Kudos: 59





	1. The Ballad of Clover

“Ruby?” Clover put the scroll to his ear, “What’s happened?” he sat up in bed.

She didn’t waste time with small talk. It wasn’t a good sign, “It’s Uncle Qrow… he’s gone. He always comes back by ten but it’s… really late. We think he might have… gone to a bar…”

_Shit._

“Ah, yes, ok. I’m getting up right now. Do you think he’s down in Mantle?”

“Yeah, that’s where he goes to… walk. I’m… sorry to ask you but he’d be so mad if I told Winter or…”

“Yes, of course, it’s fine. I’ll go right away ok? I’ll let you know as soon as I find him.”  
  


“Thank you,” her voice sounded so small at the other end of the line. She was always the one to lead and guide, forced to be old beyond her years. At least this was one burden he could carry for her.

Clover threw the covers off and grabbed some clothes; jeans, t-shirt, sneakers, hoodie… he pocketed the scroll and looked at Kingfisher. _He can’t be in that much trouble? Surely?_

_No, this is QROW._

He picked up the weapon, threw open his door and headed off into the night.

He walked for about an hour, sticking his head into this bar and that. He didn’t stay long enough to ask if anyone had seen a gorgeous, wiry huntsman with perfect hair… there were only so many bars even licensed to be open this late and he was going to check every single one.

The night kept getting colder and colder. Clover started to seriously worry. The longer Qrow had been away from alcohol, the lower his tolerance would be. If he drank like he used to and went out into the snow…

He raced down street after street, checking every door way. Every alley.

He’d nearly run out of names on the mental list he still carried from his patrolling days, when a deep gravelly voice cut through the icy air.

“Well looky here, if it isn’t Atlas’s finest.”

Clover slowly turned.

_At least he’s upright. Kind of._

Qrow was leaning against a lamppost very shakily; his eyes bleary. One hand clutched a bottle; a large bottle that was only one third full.

“Hello Qrow, fancy finding you here. You enjoying the Mantle night life?”

“It’s shit,” Qrow waved his bottle for punctuation, brown liquid sloshing.

“Well… that’s a shame I guess. How about we get you out of the cold?” Clover glanced at his scroll and pressed send on the message he had hopefully pre-typed for Ruby: _Found him, he’s fine. I’ll take care of him tonight._

“I’m not cold,” Qrow said, using his drink to toast the sky, “I don’t even feel it. That’s the _point_ ,” he grinned. It made Clover angry and sad in a way he hadn’t expected.

_I know it hurts but you can’t keep just killing yourself slowly... the kids need you… and I…_

_…have no right to put my needs on someone who is hurting this much._

_Come on, Clover._

_Do better._

“You want to head home? Seems like you’ve got enough there to keep you going,” Clover gestured to the bottle and tried to smile.

“This? I haven’t even gotten _started_ ,” Qrow slipped off the lamppost, flailed a little then regained his feet.

_Think!_

“Maybe I could have a swig? It’s nicer to drink if you have company,” he looked at Qrow, his eyes pleading.

“That’s where you’re wrong. Company is exactly what I don’t need. Now go away. You’re harshing my buzz,” Qrow made eye contact and then, slowly and deliberately, he lifted the bottle to his lips and gulped half of what was left.

“Qrow…” Clover’s chest hurt like he’d been hit, “Come on… at least sit with me. I’ve come all this way just to see you. You wouldn’t leave a man hanging like that would you?”

“Leave you… hanging? You!? Ha!” Qrow barked, his eyes flashing, “You’re the one who leaves people hanging! You’re all _winky_ and _tight pants_ but you don’t even follow through!”

Clover had a _lot of thoughts_ _all at once_ but none of them were helpful.

“I didn’t mean to do that, Qrow.”

“That’s what I’m saying! You don’t even know what you do to me!” Qrow kicked the snow, nearly losing his footing again.

Clover just stood, blinking. _What you do to me…_

_Oh, Qrow…_

Qrow waved his bottle and continued, “Why’d you even come down here anyway? Just wanted to see me… like this? Want to tell all your little Ace Ops friends what a _fucking mess_ I am!? I’m sure Jimmy would love to know that he’s upset the _great_ Qrow Branwen soooo much! Man _lives_ to make fucking waves after all…”

_So that’s what this is about…_

_General Ironwood._

It wasn’t surprising. Clover used to admire the General so much… he still trusted the man with his life but he seemed to be going too far down a dark path. What Qrow had gone through for the General… what he had suffered… He probably expected to be welcomed by a great man with a great plan… a leader at the height of his powers. But when Oz died, a big part of the General went too.

_It had been hard on all of them but Qrow… he’s suffered alone for too long._

“Qrow… Qrow… I didn’t come because of the General…” 

“Yeah, yeah… you probably even believe that but he gets in your head. He makes you believe that what you’re doing is right but it’s not right! He’s a megalo… megala… he’s an asshole!”

“Yeah he is,” Clover sighed, looking at his shoes.

“What!?” Qrow growled as he slowly slid down the pole and sat heavily in the snow.

“He’s an asshole. Sometimes,” Clover conceded.

“He’s an asshole all of the damn time!”

Clover approached slowly, feeling the rage in the air start to dissipate. Finally he was standing above the crumpled figure. One of the greatest huntsman in Remnant and his only weakness was that he cared too much. It was just so… _unfair._

Clover shook his head and sat his ass down in the snow. He reached out his hand, “Come on, give me a drink. I’m fucking freezing over here.”

“I didn’t know you even knew that word,” Qrow looked at him unsteadily.

“There’s a lot of things about me you don’t know.”

Qrow scoffed, but he passed Clover the bottle.

_Well, I have no idea what this is but… bottoms up I guess._

Clover took a big swig and burst into a coughing fit, spraying cheap scotch on the sidewalk.

“What the hell Qrow!? How can you drink this?”

“Lots and lots of practice,” Qrow sighed.

Clover took another big hit and got it down this time.   
  
_Every drop I drink is one he doesn’t._

“You be careful…” Qrow looked at him with eyes full of haggard suffering, “This shit’ll kill you.”

“I know.”

The heavy silence engulfed them. The heat in Clover’s stomach just made the ache in his chest more obvious. Every time he looked at Qrow it just _hurt_.

“So what now?” Qrow asked, taking the bottle back and clutching it to his chest.

The red eyes looked at him, willing him to act… _What do you want from me Qrow? I would do anything… Come on, Clover…_ “Would you… come back to my place maybe?”

“Your place?” Qrow’s eyes narrowed. _Not what he was waiting for, then._

“I… left my tight pants at home because I thought I’d have to arrest you,” Clover joked, awkward.

“Arrest me!?” Qrow laughed a mocking, loud and guttural laugh, “You and what army, Hot Stuff?”

“It only took cuffs last time,” Clover tried a tentative smile.

“You had the pants on last time,” Qrow looked at him, his unfocused eyes sliding over Clover’s face, his lips.

“I didn’t know they were such a hit.”

“Yes you did,” Qrow’s eyes cleared and just for a moment, Clover felt like he was really looking at him. Seeing genuine hurt and rage. “You’re a fucking _show off_.”

Clover swallowed around the knot in his throat, “I guess I… did know. I’m sorry I never did anything about it. I’m gutless when it comes to men.”

“Gutless? You got no taste! Who could say no to aaaallll this?!” Qrow gestured at his crumpled form, wet with dirty snow and spilled cheap booze.

Clover shook his head. Even in the depths of his depression, Qrow could still manage a self-deprecating joke. It was the armour that kept the world at arm’s length. Such a habit that it was natural as breathing.

Qrow’s words struck home but not how he’d intended them.

_I’ve never seen a man so strong and so broken. Burning with a fire of self-destruction but still spending every breath on those he loves… hiding his doubt. Hiding his fear. So that no one else will have to bear it._

_No wonder Ruby is so selfless… so strong._

_Who could say no to all this?_

Clover smiled, a sad and wistful smile, “I am struggling to restrain myself.”

“If it’s so fucking hard to hold yourself back then why would you? I could sure as hell use a distraction right about now,” Qrow sighed heavily. He lifted the bottle and tipped it up, his throat opened and he emptied the last of it in a single gulp.

“Qrow…” Clover felt the cold wind freeze the tears as they formed.

“No, don’t say it. I know. I’m a fucking mess. Should’ve kept my damn mouth shut but I guess I must just _hate myself_ that much.”

Something deep inside Clover just _snapped_. He grabbed a fistful of Qrow’s waistcoat and yanked the man towards him. He pressed his lips to that scotch covered and stubbled face and focussed on kissing the pain away.

_Please Qrow… know how much I care about you. Let this tell you what I can’t say._

Qrow returned the kiss; eager, desperate… then he suddenly broke away and lunged forwards, past Clover, onto his hands and knees, and threw up in the snow.

Clover put his head into his hands and grinned.

Out of everything that had happened tonight, this was the only thing that seemed right for them.

_Typical Qrow._

_My beautiful bad luck charm._

“Oh fucking hell, that is not nice,” Qrow huffed.

Clover moved tactfully away as he finished emptying his stomach.

Finally the cramping and groaning was over and Qrow sat back against his sturdy lamppost companion and sighed, “Thank you and goodnight.”

“You going to let me take you home now?”  
  
“You want this,” he gestured to himself in all his drunken glory, “in your room? You sick fuck.”

“I want you out of the cold and also, if I don’t have someone to hug then I may freeze to death so… your choice.”  
  


Qrow looked at him, finally he seemed to decide. “I don’t think I can walk very good.”

“I can help.”

“You carry me and I will puke on you. With intent,” Qrow grumbled.   
  


“Ok tiger, I’ll just…” Clover bent over and draped one of Qrow’s arms over his shoulders then he straightened up and lifted the other man to his feet. This way they could stumble along together without offending Qrow’s dignity any further.

Slowly, with cold, wet hips bumping along, they wended their way back to the hanger and found a transport willing to take them to Atlas. By the time they got back to Clover’s room, Qrow was all but asleep.

“Here we are…” Clover set Qrow down on the couch gently, “I’m just going to take your wet things off so you don’t get a chill, ok? Don’t panic.”

“Imma not gonna panic I told you _I want you bad_ …” Qrow muttered, eyelids fluttering to closed.

Clover smiled and shook his head. _Why now?_

“Well, you might have to wait until morning. But I promise that I’ll be here, ok? You can sleep in my bed… with me… keep me warm, ok?”

“I’ll do more than ke… keep you warm…”

Clover laughed, “Sure. Come on then…” he slowly peeled the wet clothes from Qrow’s shivering body. He left his underpants on, of course, despite them being wet from the snow. By the time he had finished the man was completely asleep, the gentle rasping in the back of his throat threatening to build into a snore.

_Oh Qrow… at least I have you here._

Clover slowly changed out of his own wet things and then carried Qrow to bed. He was shivering pretty hard now and it made him seem even slighter, more vulnerable.

_He would hate that I saw this…_

_I’m sorry Qrow. I just couldn’t leave you there._

He placed Qrow tenderly in bed and lay down next to him. _Am I allowed to hug him? Can a drunk person give hug consent? Of course not. Not bed hug consent._

_Anyway, you kissed him. You’ve done enough for one night…_

Qrow groaned in his sleep and rolled over, his arm flailing. One hand landed on Clover’s chest and then the whole of Qrow followed it. Suddenly Clover was completely wrapped in freezing long, long legs with cold fingers clinging tightly to his chest. Qrow “hmpfhed” and nuzzled his face into Clover’s neck and his breathing immediately got deeper, more even.

_Well… I guess that’s that then._

As he lay in the dark, surrounded by the smell of wet hair and whiskey, Clover smiled.

_Not the first date that I would have chosen but… I’ll take it._

He swept one strong arm around Qrow’s waist and just held him against the world.

_No matter what, Qrow, I’m here._

_I’m here._


	2. The Ballad of Qrow

Qrow awoke with a grimace. His head hurt, his face hurt and his stomach absolutely hated him. Out of habit he half sat up, grasping for his hip flask on the nightstand. The room tilted as the nausea rose in an all-encompassing wave and he groaned softly and let his head fall onto the pillow again. _That’s right. No flask._

_No drinking._

_Fucked that up, didn’t I?_

Qrow curled in on himself and tried to stop his stomach cramping. He felt SO awful. His body was hot and shaking and wracked with cramps and acid sweat and his mouth tasted like sick. He’d forgotten what a _real_ hangover was like… he never used to sober up long enough to get one.

And then the other part of the bed, the warm part, snooched over towards him and wrapped him up in a possessive embrace.

_Oh…_

_Clover._

And his whole body thrummed with the heat of Clover’s skin and the feeling of his bare chest pressed tight.

He swept his arms around the man and glowed in his embrace.

_It feels so good just to be touched again…_

And then he remembered the taste of those lips.

_And…_

_Oh no…_

It was part of the curse of his misfortune, he supposed. No matter how drunk he got, he always remembered. Not every single second but most of them. And always, always the bad bits.

His mind raced back to the previous night… going to James’s office… trying to talk some sense into the General. It had ended in a screaming match. Qrow had said… some things. He knew they were right but maybe he didn’t have to shout them in the man’s face…

James had said some things too…

And it had all been suddenly _too much_.

So he did what he had always done. He succumbed to the urge to just leave the pain behind for a few hours. A few blissful hours of denial.

_Except it never worked out that way, did it?_

And now… the memories came rushing back. Clover’s lips…

_Oh no… I kissed Clover…_

But then he felt the echo of a hand grabbing his shirt, pulling him forwards…

_No… he kissed me._

And then I threw up all over the street.

_Oh fuck._

_But… he’s here._

Qrow wriggled a little, just to be sure. Clover’s embrace tightened and he felt the hard muscles press into him, flush against his whole side.

_I think I’m too sick to even feel horny… maybe I am dying after all._

_It might be better if I did… I mean…_

The words swirled around in his head. _You don’t know what you do to me…_

_I pretty much begged him to fuck me._

_Wonderful._

_… but we didn’t. I mean I might have been drunk but I would_ absolutely _remember that._

He groaned; nausea and shame rising in waves.

_I should go._

Slowly, he extricated himself from Clover’s tight embrace. He wiggled out of the bed and snuck out to the bathroom. He swirled his mouth with toothpaste and finally managed to bring himself to look in the mirror. He looked better than he felt (unsurprising, a month old slice of meatloaf would look better than he felt)… but not by much.

_You really need to get your shit together,_ he told the tired looking face in the mirror.

“Qrow?” Clover’s sleepy voice floated out behind him.

“Uh…”

Clover was in the doorway. He was just wearing pyjama pants and he looked slightly ruffled, but perfect. Because _of course_ he did.

“Hey… you should come back to bed. It’s still so early…”

“I… uh…”

_Shit! What do I say?_   
  
Qrow just stood, slightly shaking with the force of his hangover, and wished the earth would open up beneath his feet.

“Please…” Clover said; his voice soft and sad. He walked up to Qrow and reached out his hand, as if he didn’t want to get in Qrow’s space too soon, “Come on…”

“I…” Qrow looked at the outstretched hand. _He kissed me. He brought me home._

_He didn’t fuck me._

_But I shouldn’t hold that against him…_

He reached out one hand and Clover’s face split into the biggest, goofiest smile. He took the hand and pulled Qrow gently into his arms.

“You must feel awful.”

“I do.”

“Come on then, I have some vitamins and stuff. Let’s get you something,” Clover fussed briefly and came back with a weird orange drink and some tablets, “It’s an old cure from my academy days, works a treat.”  
  


Qrow struggled but managed to get most of it down.

Clover took the glass and then returned, gently ushering Qrow back to bed. Qrow lay on his back, a little unsure and Clover lay beside him, propped on one elbow. He let his other hand drape on Qrow’s chest, “Is that ok?” he asked softly.

“Uh… yeah…”  
  
“I don’t want to make you too nauseous.”

“No, I’m... ok…”

Qrow took a deep breath and just focused on the heat in the hand on his chest. Warm, steady, reassuring.

“Clover… I’m so sor..”

Clover cut in, “No. Don’t.”

“But I..”

“I don’t want to hear it. You’re doing something really hard and one little slip up makes no difference. I really admire all the work you’ve put in and I know you’ll get there …and you were pretty adorable at times.”

“I’m pretty sure I hurled on your shoes.”

Clover’s green eyes twinkled as he smiled down, “They were old shoes. Anyway, look where we ended up.”

“In bed…?”  
  
“Yep. Not bad for a first date.”

“You can’t count this as a date! What is _wrong_ with you?” Qrow finally managed a smile.

“Oh I don’t have a list; I just add stuff as I go along.”

Qrow let himself wriggle just a little closer, “Thank you.”

“It was my pleasure,” Clover smiled down and his thumb stroked across Qrow’s chest gently.

“Oh geez I forgot about the girls, they’ll be worried…” Qrow half-rose.

“I told them you were ok. It’s fine.”

“Oh…” Qrow sunk back, “Thank you…” he shook his head, trying to disperse the disappointment which welled in his chest. _I let them down again._

Clover’s green eyes sought his, “Actually, I think _I_ owe _you_ an apology.”

“You reckon?” Qrow gaped, “What the hell for?”

“You said some things last night whi..”

“Oh no… I don’t want to think about any of the things that I said. Gods… Cloves…”

“No, I should apologise. You were right. I’ve been… leading you on. I did really want to… but I have a real hard time with rejection. I guess I haven’t gotten over it like I thought. I’m sorry I wasn’t more… honest with you.”

Qrow felt a tiny flicker of his old cockiness returning.

_There’s life in the old crow yet…_

“Well… I’ve spilled my guts…” he smirked over the deliberately unfortunate choice of words, revelling in the shame as only he could, “…so maybe it’s time you spilled yours. Tell me how you feel.”

“Oh… Qrow _I can’t_ ,” Clover’s eyes widened in horror.

“Yes, you can. How bad could it be? I remember almost everything I said last night and I regret everything… so?”

“Everything?” Clover breathed.

“Almost everything.”

“No… you regret everything?”  
  


“I don’t regret you kissing me,” Qrow looked up; Clover’s face was so close. His gaze so tender and intense, “but you are trying to change the subject. Come on… just a little hint so I don’t feel like such a douche bag over here.”

“A little hint… about how I feel?”

Qrow nodded. He lifted his head and slipped one arm over Clover’s shoulder, turning into his embrace so they were completely wrapped up in each other.

Clover’s arms enveloped him and pulled Qrow closer.

“How about a big hint?”

“Not exactly what I had in mind,” Qrow grinned, enjoying the not-so-subtle presence between them.

“Alright then…” Clover took a deep breath, “I want you like I’ve never wanted anything and when you said _I want you bad_ … I swear Qrow; don’t ever do that to me again because it nearly _killed me_ just lying here next to you all night.”

“That bad, huh?” Qrow smiled, a lazy hand finding its way to Clover’s chest.

“Worse,” Clover leaned forward and let his lips brush Qrow’s.

Qrow lifted his chin and let the heat of desire wash through him. It rose in waves, up from his toes, through his hips to his stomach… _oh no that’s not…_

“Oh no, I’m going to be sick,” Qrow leapt to his feet and raced off, slamming the bathroom door behind him.

Clover flopped onto his back and looked at the ceiling, a stupid smile slowly taking over his face.

_Typical Qrow._

_Well, my beautiful bad luck charm, I guess we are destined to take the slow road after all._


End file.
